family

Becoming A Passenger

Posted on by noahmielke

For years I’ve driven my kids, but at some point they become the driver. The transition is a little jarring. You remind yourself constantly that you’ve prepped them the best you can. But at some point you have to let them take the wheel and become the passenger. Then with a little more time they drive themselves and find their own path. Every path they take will make you wince and contort from years of guiding them safely down the road of life. You want to step in every time there’s a road block or bad weather in their life. As parents I feel like the goal is to show them the road to be on, not the destination, and we can’t show them the directions to it. We must know that they know that roads location when they are ready. Life is full of trials and experiences from fun to down right horrible, but with enough help early on traveling the right road can be easier to find. My oldest is hitting eighteen today I hope with all my heart that path finds him, and he finds the courage to be the amazing man he’s becoming and use his compass we’ve taught him to use. I know I can’t force him to our road it took us years to find it ourselves. Each path is personal, different, and an exceptional gift just like he is. So instead of getting scared I’m going focus on the wonder of what road he will travel on. May your adventure be fulfilling and know we love you with all our heart. Happy eighteenth birthday Hunter, and thank you for being so incredible. You truly have made our path a sweeter more amazing one. No matter what you find on your way broke, rich, kids early, kids late, or no kids we are so proud of you.

Carving A Path

Posted on by noahmielke

Sometimes life takes you in a different direction than you expected. I could have told you at four years old what I dreamed of being. Car designer extraordinaire. Mocking up clay models and bringing beauty to steel and plastic. I drew all day EVERY day until I got my first set of real car keys. By then the teenage desires and life’s miss steps blindsided my focus. I never stopped loving cars. I was always working on them so I could really drive them. I have never been satisfied with normal cars as my transportation. Some where my choices forced me to give up on my true desires. Life is a road we all learn from. I don’t regret my path, but its interesting to see where you’ve landed.

My family is incredible. I have learned to be a lot less selfish, and my better half is the most supportive human I have ever met. (She’s also a decent editor 😉) She knows me.  It’s why I am here writing this despite being tired and getting ready for the rest of my work week. My passion for car design has never stopped, it continues. I might not be a famous designer, but my children have all picked up my weird habits. I draw cars. It’s my passion and one of my favorite ways to spend my time. The best gift I could get as a kid was a drawing pad with pencils. When my children get bored these are the first things I hand them. They are so much more talented than I ever was.

We painted a mural in the garage that has our car Horton on it. My daughter Lola (11) drew the penguins hanging around the car. They are a cool touch, she’s an amazing cartoonist. My son Aidan (15) also blows me away with his artwork, and same with my youngest daughter Scarlet (10). They all have an impressive grasp on art, and they aren’t just limited to mechanical things like I was. Its funny to me to see these things not as echoes of the past but like a song building momentum. The final big guitar strum is them with their extraordinary gifts. My dream wasn’t really all that great, what I have now is so much better. It’s where I am meant to be; with the people I love. -Noah

Yep that was a common site as a kid. Can’t believe I wore that hat.

18FT Measuring Stick

Posted on by noahmielke

The biggest thing that bothers me about not owning a house at my age is the inability to track the height of our kids on the wall. I don’t blame the economy or society, I blame me. It’s funny how much this bothers me. It’s like having peanut butter stuck to the roof of your mouth; the feeling lingers, and it takes work to quell it. Such a simple thing, but with the high costs and jobs that never paid enough no matter how hard I worked, home ownership has been out of reach. The concept of not having that little recording of their presence in my life bothers me. Maybe it’s because out of all my hard work, I’m the proudest of them.

I’ve watched these little people grow; and they’ve taught me more about human worth, empathy, and sacrifice than I could have ever known without them. While my better half is the rope that keeps me tethered, my kids are the reason I can’t stomach violence against strangers. I see them in everyone, and I want them to have more than I ever had.

The other day I was scrolling Facebook and reminiscing through each picture. I was surprised to see a measuring stick I’d never thought of. Picture after picture there was our old car Horton, a two-ton baby blue Plymouth. A purchase a poor car guy had to make. It didn’t make financial sense but turned out to be the best purchase I have ever made. The kids were raised in it, and for all its quirks they see it as a family member. Eight miles per gallon and two hundred thousand miles of memories. The car is not nearly as big to them as it used to be. From watching the fireworks on fourth of July across the hood after their mom and I divorced in 2011 to racing to the hospital when my mother in law was succumbing to cancer in 2017. A drive that nearly killed him .

It has captured every emotion in that interior and has released those memories through its old shiny paint. So many memories, so much more than a car it is my measuring stick. I can see my children’s faces in the seat’s rips and dented body work. I will never repaint it. Every worn corner is cherished. So, I guess I didn’t miss out it’s just that our families measuring stick is 18 feet long and seven feet wide.

Can you guess who stayed up all night gaming? Can’t blame him, gaming is fun.